


Oops

by chasing_the_sterek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, BAMF Stiles, Derek isn't actually seen throughout the fic, Just spoken to, M/M, Stiles rambles, Wrong Number AU, anyway, eh, huh, idk what type of AU but it's an AU, that works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasing_the_sterek/pseuds/chasing_the_sterek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles <i>meant</i> to call Scott.</p><p>Keyword: <i>meant.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Teensy Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> I should be editing my best friend's Christmas Fic Present Thing, really, but I opened my writing app thing and suddenly it's an hour later and I'm writing this.
> 
> So.
> 
> Sorry, Purple Hair.

"Yo, Scotty boy," Stiles says, "sorry I'm probably interrupting your intense vet-studying, but I really need to rant to somebody while they make encouraging noises and Lydia's threatened me with progressively more terrifying methods of murder each seven times I've called her trying to start this exact conversation, so -"

There's a noise on the other end like Scott's going to interrupt. Stiles feels a pang of guilt - he probably _is_ interrupting serious study binge time - but some pretty weird shit's been happening lately, and while usually he'd just grin and bear it he really needs to get at least a little bit of this off of his chest.

"No, please don't say anything, I really need to say some of this to someone." Stiles pleads.

There's an awkward cough that he takes as a _go ahead, dude._

Stiles ploughs on. "Okay, so the weird things only started happening on - uh - Tuesday, but I'm still seriously creeped out by one thing in particular right now, and that's the fact that my college class overran by, like, decades, and it's dark and the lamps on this street must be broken or something because they're not on, and I'm pretty sure there's this dude stalking me."

A stunned silence on the other end, then a noise like Scott's going to start panicking. Stiles tries not to roll his eyes.

"Dude, chill, I'll be fine - my Dad's the Sheriff, remember? I excel maybe a little too much in fighting - but it's still creepy as hell, so I thought, y'know what? I haven't spoken to Scott in a while -"

"I'm n-" Scott says. His voice is deeper, different. Decidedly _Not Scott._ Stiles dismisses it. His bro probably has a cold or something.

"No, dude, shut up, seriously, I'll be fine. Honestly. O Ye Of Little Faith. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you about my crazy week, and it's not exactly full of daisies, man, you're gonna have to buckle up and grab the popcorn for this one."

There's a resigned sigh.

"Sorry. I know I'm probably interrupting serious Vet Training Time, but you can tune me out, right? I mean, it's ten - hey, it's ten, when did that happen - so you're probably super tired, but that's just gotta make it infinitely easier to ignore me.

"Anyway, man, I asked Lydia if she wanted to grab lunch sometime, _as friends,_ y'know, 'cause she's pretty much the only other intelligent person on the whole work campus, and Jackson gave me serious stink-eye. Like, it was _venomous,_ dude, _lizard venomous._ I don't want to date her, why can't he just get that? We're buddies. Brain buddies. Heh, that's an alliteration. I like them. Anyway - oh, hey, the dude's gone, guess he wasn't following me after all. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Jackson's a dick. I got over my stupid preschool crush on Lydia eons ago, but he still seems to think I've got it, and that's just _so irritating,_ y'know? Like, dude, I don't want to be Mr Steal-Your-Girl. I wanna be Mr I'm-Friends-But-Only-Friends-With-Your-Girl. Is that a thing? I doubt it. Too long-winded.

"My Lit teacher told me that my writing was at a grade _A,_ Scott. An _A._ Bordering _A*._ But he said my book's a teensy bit jumpy - like, you can tell where I started and stopped writing. Apparently I need to make it more seamless, and then it'll be flawless. Fuck, this is exciting. I might get published, Scott! I might be a famous author. Don't worry, I promise you'll get my first autographed book."

There's a snort of laughter from the other end of the line. Scott doesn't sound like that normally. . . maybe he has a worse cold than Stiles had thought. He _is_ prone to hiding shit like that.

"C'mon, don't laugh. Someday I'll be a JK Rowling of this universe, and there'll be fanfiction and films and art based off of my books, and all will bow down to me because I'll be the Fucking Great Lord Of All."

Another noise like Scott's gonna interrupt.

"Ugh," Stiles complains, shamelessly cutting his buddy off yet again. Scott won't mind. He's used to wedging his words into the gaps when Stiles pauses for breath. "My book characters won't behave. Guess what they're doing, Scott?"

"Calling the wrong number and then not letting the other person get a word in edgeways?" Says an unfamiliar voice.

Stiles freezes. "Oh my god."

Laughter. He resolutely doesn't think about how nice it sounds. "Yeah, you fucked up. But don't hang up. You're walking home, right? You mentioned a class earlier, and it's ten o'clock at night -"

"Oh my god," Stiles says dully. "This is a wrong number."

The man snorts. "Yup. Still a wrong number, dumbass, but a wrong number who's now insanely curious about how book characters can misbehave."

Stiles rolls his eyes. Peasant. "You haven't really ever written, have you? Novels, fiction. . . they doesn't go to plan like non-fiction books do, man. Characters misbehave, plot twists surprise you. Stories want to be told, and there are thousands of them, and more are born each day - the little ideas we have, the little _what if_ s. . . they all turn into stories. Authors are the vessels, the pens - we - well, they - just sit there and let the story run its course. The best stories are the ones that surprise the author, I think.

"But you think the story's going one way, that it's going to do this one thing, so you try and steer if towards that thing, but then one of the characters just goes _nope, fuck this shit_ and makes a decision that changes the path completely. Characters are more alive than you think they are, especially when being written, because they make their own decisions and they choose their own paths. They don't follow your rules all of the time, and they make your whole story a shambles. It's difficult and it's tiring and it's draining, but it's worth it to sit back at the end of your binge writing session and go _yo, my buddies, you did good today_ and actually mean it."

Stiles can hear the smile in this mystery guy's voice (he definitely doesn't want to see what it looks like on his face). "You have a very romantic outlook on life," the man says.

"Not romantic," Stiles corrects. "Positive. I have a positive outlook. And, since I kind of just launched into conversation. . . Hello, I'm Stiles. Who're you?"

The guy burst out laughing. Stiles, used to it, pulls his phone away from his ear and just stares blandly at the screen which displays the number which, upon second review, is completely wrong (he absolutely does not memorise it), and waits out the laughing. "Derek," Derek chokes, obviously still grinning like a loon. "My name is Derek."

"Ah, cool," Stiles says. "Much better than -"

"Stiles?" Derek snickers.

"- calling you _That Mysterious Man I Called Accidentally Instead Of My Best Friend And Blurted A Quarter Of My Week At Before He Even Got A Word In Edgeways,_ at least." Stiles finishes coolly.

"That's a mouthful," Derek notes helpfully.

"It's TMMIACIOMBFABAQOMWABHEGAWIE for short," Stiles manages before they both crack up.  
**  
**@#£% &**&%£#@  
  
The walk home is both too short and too long. Stiles doesn't want to hang up - he's having this much fun and _he's not drunk,_ c'mon this is a _rare_ opportunity - but he has to use both hands to get to his keys.

"Dude, I have to go," Stiles says mournfully. "Can I call you again, though?"

Derek laughs. "Yeah, sure. I like talking to you, even if you say _dude_ and _man_ too much and you ramble enough to fill seventeen conversations instead of just this one."

Stiles huffs. "Shut up, Derek. You know nothing."

Derek laughs again, and Stiles smiles (what? He's allowed to smile, isn't he? Is expressing his happiness a crime now?).

"Bye, Derek." Stiles says softly.

Derek hums. "Bye, Stiles. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah. You save my number, I'll save yours, and we can text?"

"Okay." There's another smile in Derek's voice. "But I get the feeling that you really do have to go, so stop procrastinating and get on with it."

"Excuse you," Stiles hisses playfully. "I am the master of procrastinating. I procrastinate so hard I'm _productive."_

"Uh-huh. Bye, Stiles."

"Bye, mysterious man who I called instead of my best friend."

Stiles hangs up before Derek stops laughing.  
**  
**@#£% &**&%£#@  
  
Scott's all over him almost as soon as he steps into the apartment, first giving hum a hug and then swatting him on the arm.

"Where the fuck've you been?" Scott demands, squeezing him tighter.

Stiles spits some floppy brown hair out of his mouth and tries his best to hug back, which is hard when Scott's doing his anaconda snake impression. "Class overran. Coach let us out super late."

"Why didn't you _call_ me!?" Scott complains, pulling back.

Stiles snorts. "Theoretically, I did."

"No, you didn't." Scott argues. "I'd have heard my phone going off. And what do you mean, _theoretically?"_

"I called the wrong number and started ranting before he could get a word in." Stiles says as he suppresses a smile.

The tension in Scott's shoulders releases suddenly, a shit-eating grin taking over his features as it goes. "I know that smile."

Stiles pokes said expression experimentally, testing to see if there's anything different about it (there isn't). "What about my smile? It's the same as it always is."

"Nah, bro," Scott snickers. "That's your goofy _Scott I met someone and I really really like them what do I do_ smile."

"I don't have one of those."

"Oh, you do. You're using it."

Stiles makes a break for the nearest mirror and stares at his reflection, prodding at its grin. It _is_ a bit more wistful and daydream-y than normal, but he's feeling optimistic right now, so. . .

"Who's the lucky guy?" Scott snickers.

Stiles glares at him without turning (mirrors are useful that way). "He was a wrong number mistake. Nothing more."

"Did you talk for any longer about anything?" Scott grins.

"No." Stiles snaps, then hesitates.  
_  
"Yes,"_ Scott sings, noticing. Damn him for always being shrewd when it best suits him and never any other time.

"Fine, yes." Stiles grumbles something obscene under his breath. "We talked the whole walk home."

Scott whoops loudly (didn't make Stiles jump, nope, not at all) and starts to dance around the room.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he's grinning again.

His phone chimes, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check it.  


**Y'know, none of my usual wrong number calls are like that.**

  
Stiles snorts.  


_I hope not, dude. We have a special bond ;)_

**Oh God no.**

_There's no escaping it._

**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

_*evil laugh*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more, holler, but this is a pretty standalone fic as far as I'm concerned.
> 
> EDIT:
> 
> I THINK I'M GOING TO CRY THIS WAS AN ABSENTMINDED DOODLE OF THE WRITING KIND AND OVER 1500 PEOPLE HAVE READ IT
> 
> DUDE
> 
> THANK YOU
> 
> FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART
> 
>  
> 
> (and yes, there is more coming. Don't worry. My babies shall meet)


	2. Are You From Tennessee? Because You're The Only Ten I See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pickup lines at 2AM, featuring leather jackets and vague mentions of space. What more do you need?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY OKAY SO MANY PEOPLE ASKED FOR THIS LIKE HOLY SHIT MAN BUT OKAY OKAY IT'S ALL GOOD NOW BECAUSE HERE IS YOUR CHAPTER
> 
> AND IT'S UTTER TRASH
> 
> BUT IT'S ALL YOU'RE GETTING
> 
>  
> 
> Derek is in bold text, and Stiles is in italics. I know _I_ forgot.

_I must be standing on your left_

**Wtf Stiles it's two in the morning why are you standing on my left**

_Because you're my Mr Right ;D_

_And don't lie to me. I know you were awake, doing what sourwolves do at 2AM._

**Fine, I was awake.**

_VICTORY!_

**Yeah, yeah, congratulations :(**

_Turn that frown upside down, mister. No being Mr Grumpy-Pants at 2AM._

**):**

_I intensely dislike you right now._

**That's rough, buddy.**

**Anyway, what's up with the pickup line?**

_Oh, I found a huge list of the fuckers online and decided to test one out._

**It was awful.**

_Sorry not sorry :P_

_Your leather jacket looks nice._

**I'm not wearing a leather jacket.**

_Bet you own one, though._

_I'm imagining you now._

_Super biker Derek._

**No.**

_Very very tattooed Derek._

**Stop.**

_Heavy metal Derek. Gangster Derek. Derek with one of those little triangular flags you can put on the back of a motorbike._

**NO.**

_I bet you're part of a secret Leather Jacket Cult._

**If anyone's a part of a secret leather jacket cult it's my sister.**

_Cora would._

**Definitely. Anyway, I'm almost too scared to ask, but why did you bring up my theoretical leather jacket in the first place?**

_Well, your jacket looks nice on you._

_But it would look even better on my floor._

**. . .**

_[EXTERNAL IMAGE]_

**Why is there an old lady**

**Is she here to help me recover from your innuendos**

_"HELP! I'VE FALLEN FOR YOU AND I CAN'T GET UP"_

**IT'S SO BAD NO**

_[EXTERNAL IMAGE]_

**. . . Nemo can't be turned into an innuendo, can he? Even you can't do that to him, right?**

_TRY ME._

_"I know which butt I want to touch ;)"_

**My childhood is ruined.**

_Star Wars or Doctor Who?_

**Ummmm. . .**

**. . . Star Wars?**

_Honey, you've been looking for love in Alderaan places!_

**OH MY GOD**

**Okay, okay, now I'm curious about Doctor Who.**

_Are you a Tardis? Cause when I look into your eyes I feel like I'm flying around the universe._

**Awww.**

_HARRY POTTER_

_If you were a Dementor, I'd become a criminal just to get a kiss._

**But you'd die.**

_Missing the point, dude._

_OH MY GOD THERE ARE A LOAD MORE DISNEY ONES_

**Nooooooo**

_You must be Cinderella, because I see that dress disappearing by midnight._

**I'm a man.**

_Just pretend you're DERderella, and that your dress is actually a leather jacket._

**I don't want to be Derderella, Stiles.**

_To quote someone else who's awake at 2AM, "that's rough, buddy."_

**Ugh.**

**Call me Pooh, because all I want is you, honey.**

_HE HAS JOINED IN THE FESTIVITIES_

_ONE OF US, ONE OF US_

**Who's the us?**

_Are you the ring? Because you're precious to me._

**Never mind**

_The fires of Mount Doom aren't as hot as you are._

**Are you done?**

_Never. I last longer than Boromir._

**That's a no**

_I bet your licence got suspended for driving all these guys crazy_

_C'mon, Der. You already did it once._

**And I'll never do it again.**

_Liar. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?_

_JOIN ME, MY LOVE_

**You're so mean to me :P**

**. . .**

**I'm not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together.**

_AAAAYYYYYYYY_

Stiles pauses, his fingers hovering over what would be the next couple of keys on his phone screen, and tries to figure out if he's got enough guts to send what he wants to. 

The brunet types it out. 

Erases it. 

Types it out again. 

Deletes it. 

He closes his eyes, quickly taps it out, and hits 'SEND' before he can rethink it. 

_Well, if you insist ;)_

Stiles freezes and stares blankly at his phone screen for a second. He can't believe he actually _sent_ that, that that text has already been up to the satellites in space and back down to wherever the hell Derek lives. 

Well, there's no deleting it now. It's gone, and if the friendship Stiles and Derek have formed over four and a half (ish) months of texting each other goes with it then at least Stiles knows he's going to be grateful in the end that he never had to regret not telling Derek about his stupid, stupid feelings. 

Stiles has already halfway convinced himself that this is it, it's the end - Derek's going to hate him forever and their friendship is ruined - when the text comes in. 

**It's a date,** is all it says, and Stiles isn't ashamed about the gleeful whoop he lets out, even when Scott comes to his room to ask who he's texting and then complains at him for interrupting his and half the street's night's sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Oops! Thank you so much for sticking with my Wrong Number AU 'till the end. You are truly a glorious person.
> 
> Yes, you.
> 
> Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, [this is my tumblr if you want it.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/total-master-of-geekiness)


End file.
